


All The Things I Haven't Said

by princesscas



Category: Dragon Quest XI
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, Hero | Luminary is Named Eleven | El (Dragon Quest XI), I wrote this while fueled by dry cereal, Little bit of kissing, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pre-Relationship, Self-Indulgent, or is it???, pretty much just erik and el though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28197990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princesscas/pseuds/princesscas
Summary: It’s hard to hide how you feel about someone when they’re always around. It’s also hard to show how you feel about someone when you’re essentially as shy as they come. This is precisely El’s plight. Sure, Erik makes him want to give up all his self-imposed rules and become a stupid sappy mess, but he’s fine just the way they are. And if ‘the way they are’ includes kissing in front of all their friends before holiday break, well, he’s not about to complain.alternate summary: El is gay and stupid
Relationships: Camus | Erik/Hero | Luminary (Dragon Quest XI)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	All The Things I Haven't Said

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fav_littleleaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fav_littleleaf/gifts).



> months of work led to this self-indulgent fluffy mess and I couldn’t be happier about it
> 
> without further ado, enjoy!

_ september 24 _

It was past one in the morning, and El really should have been asleep.

“Hey! C’mon, El, stop,” Erik’s voice whined over his headphones. The corner of his overdramatic pout was visible from the little video taking up most of El’s phone, propped up against his pillow next to his console, but even with his lips caught in such a childish expression, he was beautiful.

El only laughed.

“Evil,” Erik complained, but his slight smile said otherwise. “You’re absolutely  _ evil. _ I hope you break your net on my head, you asshole.”

“I have extras for a reason,” El replied calmly, and Erik sputtered over the call, blushing just enough that it was visible even in the low light of his bedside lamp. He pulled up his inventory, and found that he still had three more undamaged bug nets, and two fishing rods for good measure. El couldn’t hold back from giggling as his on-screen avatar whacked Erik’s with his green star-shaped bug net yet again. Erik’s exasperated sigh was just barely audible.

“If you actually hit me with a net, I swear on my nonexistent honor that I’ll steal your conditioner.”

“That’s all?”

“I’m gonna use it all, and then chuck the empty bottle at you through the window while you’re in fifth period,” Erik threatened.

El snorted, trying to push the thought of Erik’s hair smelling like his conditioner, Erik being  _ his _ , to the back of his mind, to the corner he saved for forbidden things. There was a lot of Erik in there. Erik was the reason he’d created that place. At first he’d envisioned it as one cardboard box, one that he would noisily tape shut, but at this point at least three boxes were necessary. The number of images confined there grew exponentially. The volume of his thoughts was greater than El had originally imagined.

“You always go to get food during fifth.” El pulled out his bug net again, and Erik’s blue spikes were sprinting out of view before he could even think to chase. El’s avatar didn’t follow. “Are you saying I’m more important than food? That’s a high compliment, I suppose.”

“Damn it,” Erik grumbled. He scrubbed the heel of his palm against his closed eyes. “Hate it when you pull out your good logic on me. Works every time.”

El’s answering smile was soft. He hoped desperately that he wasn’t betraying the puddle that his heart had become. A vain hope, considering how it felt like his chest could burst like a water balloon at any moment and spill it all out. Erik just made him feel like that. One of the side effects of his all-consuming, galaxy-sized crush.

God, he was an idiot.

“Want to go diving? You’ve only got another 100k bells left on your loan, right?” Erik tilted his head to the side in inquiry. “Couple diving trips should cover it.” A stray lock of his hair flopped lazily into his eyes. They weren’t quite as vibrant on his phone’s tiny screen as they were in real life, but hearing his voice was the next best thing, so El put up with it.

“Sure, yeah. Diving sounds fine.”

El directed his little brunette character to follow the path to the beach, and he almost didn’t see Erik whip out his own bug net and sprint after him.

“Hey, no fair! You can run faster than me,” El complained, fighting the urge to break out into delirious, sleep-deprived giggles. That wouldn’t be great. Actually, Erik finding out about his feelings was almost the worst possible scenario. It wasn’t as if it was difficult to get swept off one’s feet by Erik - he had become notorious for it after he’d apparently rejected one of the girls’ volleyball team members (Jade  _ said _ she had done it as a joke, but nobody was too sure of this). El was simply one of many. Another name to add to a petition.

There was also the one time they’d kissed last month, but he didn’t let himself think about that.

“Not my fault you can’t hold down the B button,” Erik teased. El couldn’t help the sharpness of his next inhale. His voice had been low, smooth, soft, bordering on things that El didn’t like to think about, things that made El feel like he had magma flowing through his system rather than blood. He couldn’t get enough of Erik, and that one fact had the potential to ruin everything.

This was his predicament, he thought, as he followed Erik to the water, keeping careful distance so as not to get assaulted with a net for a second time. He was too much of a coward to ever say anything, lest he jeopardize what they already had.

A terrible fate, falling for one’s best friend. He might as well give up prematurely, it wasn’t as if-

“Care to explain why you look like you rolled off an ‘orror set? ‘S eight thirty, tha’s plenty of time t’get ready, I’d say. You ‘aven’t even got a proper skincare routine,” a familiar voice sighed, and El found a set of aquamarine eyes on his face as he speedran the last of his morning schedule.

El fought the flush progressing up his cheeks, but it was a losing battle. “Morning, Gemma. I just, um. It doesn’t need a lot of maintenance, I guess?”

“Hmm.” Gemma shot his unmarred clear skin a jealousy-fueled glare. “Well, you didn’t answer my question,” she pointed out, planting a hand on her hip.

“I stayed up.”

“When did you get t’sleep? Don’t lie to me, I’ll know.”

“Late?” El hedged, playing for time. He slung his bag over his shoulder and slammed the car door shut with more force than was strictly necessary. “Got any caffeine?”

Gemma shot him a heavily judgemental look, and El pressed his lips tight together.

“You’re bound to fail geometry if y’keep this up,” she mumbled, but from her bag she produced a plastic bottle of iced tea. In that moment, El could have sworn that the harsh sunlight coming through the windshield cast a halo bouncing off her shimmering blond hair.

“Thanks,” El whispered as she handed over the bottle, refusing to meet his eyes, as if giving up her bottle of black tea were a great personal sacrifice. She scowled as she pulled out of the driveway, en route to school as always. Amber was probably still asleep from her late shift.

“Promise not t’do that again? I can only guess how late you fell asleep.”

“I won’t,” El replied easily, but he knew full well that it was a lie. If Erik asked, well. He’d come running, like the loyal admirer he was, and he wouldn’t regret a single thing.

Except, of course, once he got his geometry test back and discovered that he’d earned a glowing sixty-four percent - barely above the  _ see me after class _ note margin.

***

_ october 16 _

It was one of those days that El thought were perfect, with a low coating of clouds that left his hair suspiciously wet if he stayed out too long, and a haunting chill that seemed to stem from within him. El loved weather like this. Under normal circumstances, he amounted his chills to loneliness, but when he had chills in this weather, he felt better about it.

If he was going to be cold, he might as well have an excuse for it.

So what if he had taken burning hot showers since he was seven years old? It didn’t necessarily mean he was missing something or that he had some kind of social deprivation-

A light tug to his hair startled him out of his thoughts.

El was met with twin jewels of blue, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Hey,” Erik said. El noticed that his backpack hung off one shoulder so that one of the straps dangled. He thought it was stupid when people did that to look cool. It didn’t help that Erik somehow  _ did _ manage to look cool.

“Aren’t you cold?” El asked, eyeing the olive green hoodie that seemed to be forever resigned to its fate of being nothing more than an accessory at Erik’s waist.

“Aren’t you hot?”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” El countered, tugging the zipper of his jacket closer to his chin.

Erik pursed his lips and tried to conceal his smile. “Touche.” A flush began to stain his cheeks, and El watched with mounting interest as the tips of his ears turned red.

He hid the beginnings of his own blush as best he could in the collar of his jacket, though his embarrassment was for a completely different reason, he was certain. “Did you want to tell me something?”

“Yeah,” Erik replied, his usual slight smile spiked with smugness returning, as if nothing of interest had happened. “Clear your schedule, you’re going with me to get coffee.”

Instantly, El’s eyes went wide.

Surely he didn’t mean-

“Wait, you don’t like coffee, right? I can get you tea instead,” Erik offered, with a sweet, virtuous smile that El didn’t believe for an instant. There was no way Erik wanted something as simple as his company that badly.

“What’s in it for you?”

Erik grinned guiltily.

“That’s what I thought,” El muttered darkly.

“It’s just this one assignment for english, and I know you’re good at that. I would have asked Serena for help, but Sylvia’s going to kick her off cheer squad if she misses another game and it’s due tomorrow - “

“It’s okay,” El interrupted, “I’ll help. Do you have your laptop with you?”

Erik’s eyes shone with delight, and El resisted the temptation to stare into them for the hell of it like some kind of lovesick preteen. He was much more sophisticated than that. At the very least he was a lovesick full-on teen. That had to be worth something. Maybe. Or perhaps it just made it worse.

The walk to their nearest coffee shop didn’t take long, each step familiar and well-traveled by high school students before them, but every moment spent outside was a moment too long, and El found himself savoring it. The cold was a welcome distraction from the world, and from the mountain of work he had yet to face, and from the far-too-cute boy by his side. If he also savored the way that his steps fell in line with Erik’s, there was no need to acknowledge it. Or think about it at all.

No need to consider how Erik might react if he’d said he was cold, if he’d let loose a sparkling laugh, if he’d hand over his hoodie that smelled like his fabric softener, if Erik’s hand would linger a bit too long on the edge of his waist and he’d look  _ right _ into those blue eyes and find some untapped reserve of determination and declare to Erik just how beautiful he was when his breath puffed out in little clouds of steam and his hair -

El stumbled on the frame of the door Erik was holding open for him, and felt heat rising in his face as Erik raised a single (perfectly arched and graceful and  _ shut up- _ ) eyebrow at him.

He turned away as quickly as he could, snatching Erik’s bag from his shoulders. Erik fumbled with something inside his pocket, intense concentration scrunching his lips.

El glanced away guiltily and forced himself to stare at the dark wood grain of the table beneath him. He hung Erik’s bag on the chair across from him and removed the laptop from the sleeve at the back, opening it on the table before realizing he had no idea what the password was, and he found himself blushing again.

Just the rush of warm coffee-scented air from the building playing tricks on him.

“Got you a chai latte,” Erik mumbled. His hand shot into his hair, somehow managing to keep it elegant in the process.

“That’s … my favorite,” El replied in the most nonchalant tone he could muster. As if he didn’t care.

As if it didn’t mean the world to him that Erik knew his usual drink order off the top of his head.

“You deserve it.” Erik took a long draft of his own drink (an almond milk latte, El noticed), before offering a smile that was unquestionably even warmer than the drink before him on the table. “Seriously, you’re a lifesaver. I know you didn’t have to do this, so it’s, uh, thanks,” he finished softly, eyes cast to the table.

El shrugged. He took a sip of his own drink to prevent the silence, and proceeded to discover that it was still startlingly hot and that yes, he was liable to burn himself. “You told me to clear my schedule. Your wish is my command.”

“I’m not some kind of prince,” Erik protested, moving the laptop over to his side of the table and entering his passcode. El restrained from watching his fingers. Mostly. (He caught Erik’s pinkie finger on the A key once or twice, and it was kind of pretty, but that was all.)

“You could be. What if Hendrik’s been hiding your royal heritage?”

“Think Mia would have dragged it out of him by now,” Erik argued, although his mouth quirked up at the left side.

“Jasper’s probably the one that’s secretly royalty, then. He’s just waiting for the right moment to reveal it. Maybe … um … he didn’t want to tell you because he thought you’d want him in the family for that! Instead of for who he was.”

“Nobody said I wanted him in the family,” Erik muttered, seemingly unaware of what he’d said, but he dragged his chair over closer and moved the laptop so they could both see it, and his hair brushed the edge of El’s cheek, and his brain stopped functioning enough to carry a conversation, so that was that.

“It’s an argument essay, and I’m doing something about why vegetarianism is good for the environment, I did some research and beef use, like, a fuckton of water … “

“Sure, that’s good, type it - um, maybe don’t use ‘fuckton’ in the final draft.”

“I can’t - hey!”

By the time the draft was concise and effective and no longer glaringly full of swears (“Hey, hell doesn’t count” “I think your professors would say otherwise”), El’s chai had gone cold enough that even he couldn’t manage to burn himself on it.

Walking out the door wasn’t something he looked forward to - it was warm in here, and it was anything but warm outside, especially now that it was almost five, and the wintry air surrounding him was usually a prospect he didn’t want to face - but with the dregs of a half-cold chai latte in his hand and thoughts of Erik fresh in his head, he didn’t feel the autumn chill at all. Maybe there was something to be said for vegetarianism, he thought, but he loved sushi a little too much to test that theory out.

***

_ november 3 _

**erik is hawt**

el

ellllll

can i get some help

@ **hecinmint (el)**

@ **hecinmint (el)**

@ **hecinmint (el)**

**hecinmint (el)**

WHAT IS IT

DID SOMEONE DIE

**erik is hawt**

not yet but its only a matter of time

**hecinmint (el)**

History notes again?

**erik is hawt**

perhaps

**hecinmint (el)**

Sometimes I wish you’d admit you’re shamelessly using me

**erik is hawt**

;)

**girl in red**

GET A ROOM

ALSO ERIK CHANGE YOUR NICKNAME

**erik is still hawt**

do you ever turn off caps lock

**rena <3**

she doesnt

El’s phone glowed with the message  _ Incoming Video Call: Erik _ and he couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face. He’d learned to ignore the wink face thing, for the most part, because it was no different from his usual self, but he couldn’t pretend that he wasn’t somewhat affected by it. Who wouldn’t be? It was Erik. Cute, charming Erik and his cute, charming smiles, even if they were digital.

Leave it to El to overthink a semicolon.

“Hey,” Erik said as he accepted the call. “Thought you were gonna turn me down.”

“I’d never reject you,” El blurted, and then immediately cursed his mouth for acting before he could give his express approval. “I wouldn’t want to make you sad,” he added quickly, and Erik’s expression didn’t falter at all. Luck. Pure luck. He’d have to work on that in the future. Continuing to get lucky would work too, actually.

“History notes, right? For Johnson? Veronica told me that you had some work yesterday so I assume you put it off- “

“Actually,” Erik interrupted, “I did Johnson’s notes last night … “

“Why’d you call me, then?” El asked, raising one eyebrow. “Miss my voice that much?”

“Sure,” Erik said neutrally, and that was El’s cue to roll his eyes preemptively. As much as he wished that maybe Erik really did like his company in the same way he liked Erik’s, he knew full well that was next to impossible, a fantasy that he kept sealed away and didn’t unlock, ever, except on the nights when he was busy being a pining idiot, which was every night, so it wasn’t locked away at all, and El was a dirty, dirty liar. It was no use lying to himself. He lived in denial, and he had no idea why he did it.

“Let me guess,” El deadpanned. “Algebra?”

Erik gave his most charming smile, and El laughed, a real laugh, loud enough that Gemma threw open the door to his room and whisper-hissed for him to  _ keep it under control while ‘e was talkin’ to ‘is boyfriend because some people were tryin’ to stream themselves doing digital art _ . El assumed she was the one streaming her digital art because sensible, standard people did not do that, and Gemma was neither sensible nor standard. Then again, weirdness was probably hereditary, and as her cousin he wasn’t allowed to talk. He sincerely regretted telling her about the … incident (read: simultaneously best and worst day of his life) from August.

El shoved her out of the room and stuffed a blanket in the gap between the door and the floor to muffle the noise.

“Yeah, it’s algebra.”

“I figured that out.”

This time Erik laughed too, soft and genuine, and El’s heart softened to the point where he forgot all about shameless usage and unrequited feelings and forbidden fantasies and the equation formula for an exponential function, the latter of which turned out to be a slight issue when El realized that Erik was taking a different math class than he was and that his geometry textbook, retrieved for some unknowable reason, was utterly useless.

“I made you something,” Erik said quietly as he shoved his textbook back into his backpack. “It’s not much, but I thought … you said you like listening to music while you draw, right? Or do homework, or whatever?”

“Yeah,” El replied. “Why?”

A little notification popped up at the top of El’s phone, aggressively informing him that he had a new message from Erik. It was nothing but a link to a spotify playlist. He scanned through it - right away he spotted some of his favorites, and wondered when he’d told Erik he liked them.

“I- thanks, but why’d you spend all that time on  _ me _ ?”

Erik, looking taken aback, shrugged. “You’re always helping me and stuff, and I don’t know, I feel bad for taking up all your time, and I wanted to say thanks somehow. It’s also conveniently the exact length of one class, give or take a few minutes of passing period, so … “

It was at this precise moment that he noticed that the playlist was titled  _ el’s definitely not skipping class mix _ , and he wondered if he’d somehow managed to find his way into heaven, but he was most certainly still alive (a fact which he’d only determined after slapping his own leg at a volume that earned him yet another Gemma Glare through the crack in the door).

If El wasn’t quite paying attention during a few of his less critical classes in the next week or two, it wasn’t his fault.

***

_ december 4 _

That afternoon, Erik hadn’t found him after school at his locker, hadn’t been by the door, hadn’t offered to walk him to the bus stop like he usually did, but he’d thought nothing of it.

It was starting to look alarming, though, because Erik had just texted him with only:  _ come over. _ And El knew it was serious, because Erik never used punctuation. He’d said on multiple occasions that he was too elite for that, that the traditional rules of grammar didn’t apply to him, and so it was the period at the end that scared him.

And being the person he was, he didn’t dare disobey.

El caught the bus that he’d just taken to get home from school, and walked from there. He wasn’t entirely sure how to get to Erik’s house from anywhere that wasn’t the front parking lot of campus, so that was where he went.

It was only about twenty minutes later that he was knocking on the door, because when Erik asked, he came running.

“Is Erik here?” he asked as the door opened, preparing himself to get the usual sizing-up from Hendrik, but instead he found that Erik himself was on the other side. The house was desolate behind him; all the lights were off, the pillows were unevenly piled on one side of the couch, and the usually clean counter still had a bowl sitting out. If that wasn’t enough, he was wearing sweatpants instead of jeans, and the heat was on. Erik never turned the heat on.

“What, are your parents out?” he added before Erik could respond. It didn’t help that the first thing that came to mind was the ‘my parents aren’t home’ cliche.  _ This wasn’t weird _ , he told himself firmly. He’d been to Erik’s house plenty of times. Mia sometimes called him the best piece of furniture they had ever ordered (right before she’d sit on his lap and demand attention, but he didn’t mind).  _ This wasn’t any different from that. This was perfectly normal. _

“Could you just … I need to not be alone,” Erik blurted, scrubbing the heels of his palms over his eyes like he was exceptionally tired, even though he’d seemed fine earlier that morning.

“Did something happen?” El stepped over the threshold and closed the door behind him, welcoming the unusual warmth that washed over him. It was worrying, really, that Erik had any heat in the house in the first place, let alone that he was using it. “What is it?”

“Mia had a relapse. She’s in the hospital, and they won’t let me visit her,” he growled. “Why the fuck. I’m her brother. They let  _ Jasper _ go, sure, but not me? I’m her closest living family. And I’m just supposed to stay here while she might be dying? I don’t want to lose her too,” he finished in a whisper. “I just. I don’t know what to do. Help me. Please.”

“She’s going to be alright,” El said, more confidently than he felt. “She’s strong. I can’t tell you what to do, but I’ll stay if you want me to. Would it be better if I’m here?”

Erik nodded wordlessly, his eyes shut tight, and then abruptly threw his arms around his waist and drew him in. His hair tickled the edge of El’s cheek, along his jaw, but he didn’t care. He pressed Erik to his chest, wishing he could do something, actually  _ do  _ something, because nobody deserved to suffer, especially not Erik, and because he knew Erik would find a way to blame himself.

“You’re going to be alright, too,” he mumbled into Erik’s hair, which he noticed was also disheveled. He had run his hands through it so many times that he’d managed to wreck it almost artfully. “Have you eaten anything yet?”

“I didn’t have lunch, but I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” El muttered, but he offered the slightest of smiles, one that Erik barely managed to return. He stood on his toes, reaching up in the pantry for a cereal box that he discovered was unusually heavy. “Eat some cereal or something. Don’t you stress eat cereal?”

“Maybe.”

Nearly another half hour slipped by as El gradually convinced him to pour out some dry cereal into a bowl and start snacking on it, to change into a clean shirt, and eventually to flop on the couch and watch a movie. They’d had trouble deciding due to the sheer vastness of Jasper’s collection, spanning a grand total of five individual metal sets of drawers stacked on top of each other, but had settled on binge watching the first few Harry Potter movies for some unknowable reason (El may or may not have thought Tom Riddle was hot).

They never did eat dinner that night, but they made a significant dent in the amount of cereal in the house.

At around seven, halfway through the second movie, Erik shivered next to him ( _ shivered,  _ what was up with that) before pulling a blanket over his shoulders and leaning in closer. He was cold to the touch.

El almost panicked.

Erik wasn’t cold. Ever. He was practically a heater himself.

“I’m sorry,” Erik mumbled into the blanket. “Just … cold. I’m cold. Yeah. Don’t know how that happened. Is it annoying? I’ll stop if you want me to.”

A soft smile danced around the corners of El’s mouth. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind.”

And he really didn’t mind. He liked it. Maybe he wished it were under better circumstances, but if Erik needed him, he’d always be there. There wasn’t anything more he could bring himself to do. This was his best shot. It would likely never be enough, not when he had competition who was undoubtedly better, but in that moment, he let himself think that maybe it could, that maybe he had a chance. He was allowed to dream. Dreams did no harm, so long as he knew they weren’t real when he woke up.

He wasn’t sure about this one, though, because the issue was that he didn’t  _ want  _ to wake up.

El didn’t want to fall asleep either, not when he found that Erik’s head had dropped onto his shoulder and his breathing had become steadier, that the worries had slipped away from his face. He looked so content, so peaceful, so innocent, and once again El wished that he could take all the pain that had been meant for Erik himself. When push came to shove, Erik was just like anyone else. Fragile. Breakable. He’d been broken, he’d been shattered too many times over, and El didn’t know if he had the strength to put him back together.

What El did know was that he wouldn’t ever stop trying.

El was the first awake in the morning, and a quick glance at the clock by the bookshelf made him grateful for the fact that it was a Saturday. He found that they were still on the couch, and that Erik had somehow managed to reposition himself so he was practically on top of him sometime in the night, and that his phone was glowing with a hundred new texts from Gemma and Amber, alarmed as to his whereabouts.

It was tempting to stay, to linger in the warmth and safety of the blankets and the naivete that came with them.

He dragged himself up anyway, carefully replacing himself with a pillow so Erik didn’t wake up.

_ I’m fine _ , he reassured his family members,  _ I stayed the night at Erik’s place. _ And then, to only Gemma:  _ Before you ask, no, we’re still not dating, and no, I didn’t sleep with him _ .

He’d explain about Mia later, he decided, and that would be his get out of jail (being grounded) free card. It would be fine. Besides, there were more worse things than being grounded by Amber; she didn’t take the window into account, and believed late bus lies far too easily. He’d long ago accepted that Amber didn’t really care when he broke her rules, and had forced himself to feel no guilt about it. Gemma was a worse rulebreaker than he was anyway.

“El?”

“I’m here,” he replied instantly. From the corner of his eye, he could see a little twinge of blue on the other side of the couch, and for some reason the sight made him smile. “I’m right here. Just got up. My family texted me a bunch, that’s all. I’m not going to leave you.”

“Yeah,” Erik breathed, but the room was silent enough to hear it sharp and clear. “Yeah, I know. Thanks.”

Abandoning his phone on the kitchen counter, El brought a glass of water over, silently commanding Erik to drink it, which he did with minimal protest, although he didn’t move or even smile or do anything other than drink the water. He clearly wasn’t going to do anything, so El also searched through the kitchen’s entire food supply (probably not literally, considering that Erik had said he had secret food stores), and threw some waffles into the toaster. As per Mia’s usual demands, the finished product was topped with hazelnut spread.

When he brought the plate over, Erik’s eyes widened, and he blinked in disbelief before turning his eyes to El as if he were some kind of shocking clickbait headline, or maybe one of those weird art time lapse videos he seemed to like so much.

“God, I love you,” Erik mumbled sleepily, and El’s heart nearly stopped.

“I love you too, idiot,” he whispered.

Erik probably didn’t hear him, but that was fine.

***

_ december 18 _

Veronica was flipping the entire room off.

El wouldn’t see the majority of his friends for the next few weeks. He wasn’t traveling for the holidays, but the twins were going to Vermont to visit some relatives (an aunt and uncle, maybe, El wasn’t really sure, but he knew that at least one of them had a British accent), and Jade was going to Honolulu with her father and her cousin Frysabel. Even Gemma was spending a couple of days with her boyfriend’s family. Erik and Mia weren’t traveling either, as far as he was aware, but the rest were. And Veronica was using their last precious moments together to flip them off.

“It’s perfect,” Veronica declared, beaming at Erik, who grinned back. She adjusted the silver-set ruby on her middle finger. The metal winked at El under the lights of his living room.

“Thought you’d like it,” Erik said, smirking slightly as Veronica flipped him off again, showing off the ring, which somehow perfectly fit that particular finger. Probably something Erik had planned on, knowing both of them.

Serena made a little mark in her notebook using a red gel pen (Veronica’s color, he figured), and then switched to blue. El drew in a breath. She didn’t need to say anything to indicate whose turn it was; El had already turned around and reached for the little bundle behind him. At first glance, the package would have seemed like nothing more than a few pieces of paper, but first impressions could be misleading.

“So, um. This is for you,” El mumbled in what he hoped was Erik’s direction, painfully aware of how unnecessary it was. “Read them in order? It should make more sense. They’re numbered.”

Erik nodded silently, and then he started.

The further his eyes moved down, the further his eyebrows rose, and the further El’s heart sank. What had made him think this was a good idea? It seemed terrible, in retrospect. It made no sense. He wasn’t even the type to do this kind of stuff, and Erik probably wasn’t the type to like it, and why had he written it out like some kind of hopeless romantic writing fanmail, and what was up with Erik’s eyes going so wide? Wait, had he said something weird? Oh crap, he’d ruined their friendship, he’d messed everything up just like he promised himself he wouldn’t-

“El,” he murmured, a reprimand and a plea and a thousand other things he couldn’t identify all wrapped up neatly in a single syllable. “You mean it?”

“Yeah,” El said heavily, resigning himself to his fate. There wasn’t any other way out of this. If he lied, Erik would know, of course he would, and that had potential to end up even worse.

“All of it?”

“Yeah, I- “ El swallowed thickly. “I’m so sorry - “

At this point, he found himself silenced by a finger on his lips - Erik’s finger, because he’d apparently moved much closer on the couch. So close, in fact, that El could see the weaving in the drawstrings of his hoodie, resting against his chest, could see the precise shade of blue that made up his eyes, could see the places where his lips were dry and chapped from the winter weather.

“What are you sorry for? You think I’d rather have some expensive gift?” Erik laughed, a small, pretty sound. El was suddenly reminded of the windchimes Gemma had hung by her window when she first moved in. They were small and gold and they sang best when it was cold and blustery out. El really liked those windchimes. “I’m really not that high maintenance. I love stuff like this.”

Oh. That … wasn’t exactly what he’d expected.

El’s heart raced beneath his skin, hot and desperate enough that it probably threatened a fever. He needed to breathe, but whenever he tried it got caught, rendering the efforts useless. Perhaps worst of all, Erik’s gaze was somehow different from usual, and the near imperceptible shift in his behavior was alarming. More alarming was the sudden, inexplicable desire to pull him in, map the skin of his waist and hips and shoulders with his hands, feel those rough, dry lips against his own.

Heat flared in his face, sudden and unwelcome. That had only happened once -  _ one singular time _ \- and there was no way it was happening again, because it had been the most terrifying thing he’d ever done. He’d kissed Erik back for a total of three seconds before his brain kicked in and he stopped faster than he’d ever done anything in his life. It wasn’t an incident he should have a desire to repeat. His mind didn’t pay much attention to that fact.

Distracted as he was, El didn’t have anywhere close to enough notice before Erik’s arms were wrapping tentatively around his waist. He pulled himself close enough that El could feel his warmth on his face without any points of contact.

Mia rolled her eyes and pointedly turned around to stare out the window at nothing. Jade whipped out her phone and started playing a game, courteously muting it.

The tip of Erik’s nose brushed his in a silent question. It was in the way he cast his eyes downward almost self-consciously; in his hands, when they suddenly went still at his waist; in his breath, when a little hitch gave away his nerves. And the answer was in the way El tilted his head forward softly.

For the first time, he was certain that his answer was correct.

Erik tasted like cocoa and warm cinnamon and something else that was vaguely familiar. When El kissed him back, he suddenly became warm and soft and pliant, completely trusting. Even though it was obvious that neither of them really knew what they were doing, everything about it was perfect, because it was him, and it was Erik, and it was everything he’d ever wanted and more.

“I can’t believe this,” Veronica grumbled.

Erik laughed -  _ laughed _ , of all things - as he pulled back, shaking his head softly. “Ronnie, you know we’ve been dating for the last four months?”

“We have?” El asked incredulously.

Jade’s gaze snapped up from her game so quickly that she dropped her phone onto the carpet, revealing that she’d died moments ago, halfway through the level.

Erik sighed deeply. “You complete and utter dumbass. I literally kissed you  _ four months ago _ . What else do you think I could have meant?”

El noticed Serena’s gel pen moving at an impossibly fast rate across the page, this time alternating between purple and blue. She was stifling giggles and her smile was positively radiant. El didn’t want to know how, exactly, she was recording the moment in her notebook, but her happiness was all the reassurance he needed.

“I love you,” El blurted.

“Finally.” Erik rolled his eyes, but the grin was plain on his lips. “I was hoping we’d get to have some kind of dramatic love confession in a mansion involving four-poster beds and expensive satin robes or something, but I guess this works too.” He tucked the letters back into their envelope with such care that it was clear that he truly did appreciate them, even with the lack of extravagance. “So long as I’ve got you.”

“Well, you’ve got me.” El smirked. “We’ve got four months to make up for, haven’t we? I can’t wait for new years.”

**Author's Note:**

> it’s gonna be a long holiday season for mia.
> 
> fav, thanks for teaching me that it’s ok to sleep 20-22 hours per day like a koala. this has taken months of effort but it’s been super fun to write! hopefully this was fluffy enough to make waking up worth it.
> 
> to everyone reading, thanks so much for being here! I love you folks! I’m one hundred percent serious when I say that comments / kudos make my day so please drop some if you enjoyed!!! it would make me super happy!!! best wishes to all of you wonderful people <3


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